


Fitz-And-Simmons

by Gingerfloss



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Science Babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingerfloss/pseuds/Gingerfloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Philip Coulson has always taken an interest in strange things, especially anything that other people seem unable to solve. Puzzles and problems are a speciality, so when it's decided that the relationship between the two youngest members of the team is almost as confusing as an 0-8-4, a new, and not quite, undercover mission begins...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitz-And-Simmons

_A/N: Set before the events of the first Episode of A.O.S._

_ Prelude _

“They’re not the most popular people at Cy-Ops, Agent Coulson.” Victoria Hand pointed out, pushing the SHIELD issue file across the desk towards him with one perfectly manicured hand: “They’re both highly involved...with each other…and not exactly the most social members of our staff…”

Phil was reasonably sure that she was still talking as he flipped the folder open, glancing down through the criteria underpinning them both, FitzSimmons where somewhat of a talking point within the other teams at SHIELD. The two young scientists seemed to have ended up lending a piece of their combined knowledge to just about everyone, despite being in their early twenties and fresh out of the academy with terrible marks in anything related to Fieldwork, which was probably why he’d come looking for some more information on them. After Director Fury had decided that he actually was still alive, and well rested in Tahiti, he’d given him permission to build a team of his own, without any higher input (Other than possibly Maria Hills, but that was purely because she kept managing to talk the information out of Coulson about what he was up to, not because she’d been asked to help). Pointedly, he continued to take no notice of the woman’s lecture, which somehow seemed to contain more negative information that he’d been told about what had happened with the Avengers, and continued to read through the files. Everything seemed to be exactly what he needed from the scientific side of his team, sporting perfect marks and highly motivated, almost model employees. Phil continued to Agent Hand as she finally took a breath, turning over the third page to uncover their Academy reports, just as she started to speak again.

“Agent Hand,” He suddenly cut across her, noticing something interesting scribbled at the bottom the note that had been added to the file by the academy: _‘Do not ask these two to work together. The results will be catastrophic.’_ He was about to mention it to her when something in his mind pointed out that it would probably be best left unquestioned, as she already had enough reasons that he shouldn’t hire them, but it seemed to add the one thing he was looking for, personality. Closing the file he placed it back on the desk, gaze back on the emotionless woman.

“Yes?” She replied curtly when his pause between sentences became unacceptably long for her taste.

“I think they’re exactly what I’m looking for. When would I be able to meet them?” He replied, taking slight delight in her almost horrified expression, but keeping his voice equally ice cold.

Victoria contemplated him for a moment, hands steeped in front of her. This man wasn’t quite the Agent Coulson she remembered, that man would have taken more notice of her words and her warnings: “Are you sure?” She asked, gazing at him over her hands. The slight inclination of his head was all she needed to be sure that he wasn’t going to take any notice of her opinion on this subject: “They’re both currently located in New York, working on project 926 at our underground base.”

Phil almost stood up before she’d finished the sentence, retrieving the file from the desk with what could almost be classed as a smile on his lips: “Thankyou for your assistance, Agent Hand.” He offered her his hand over the desk as a gesture of closure, shaking hers as she took to her own feet to watch him leave. But he‘d left before she could think of something to reply with, still surprised at the difference in the new version of Agent Coulson, and his sudden disinterest in listening to another superior officers opinions. Victoria had a feeling that they were no longer going to agree on anything.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s going to explode Jemma!” Fitz couldn’t help but point out for the third time that day, cringing slightly as he stepped back away from his lab partner, trying to resist the urge to dive behind the desk. This was the second laboratory that they’d been given in a week, after the first one had been accidently sliced in half with the newly developed remote control laser knifes that they’d been working on for the past month.

“Of course it’s not, I know exactly what I’m doing with it…” She replied, looking up at him over the top of her lab goggles in an almost irritated fashion, still crouched down in front of the strange gloopy mixture floating in the beaker on the table: “Pass me that vial and the one next to it… no, the green looking one…” Jemma reached up without looking at him, closing her hand around the glass he’d placed into it and listening to him back away from her again. To be fair, he probably was right, her attempt at creating this again was probably going to explode like it had every other time she’d attempted it. Squinting a little she added the other two chemicals, pouring them in slowly before scooting backwards to join him, watching the container curiously.

There was no explosion, just a slight hissing noise as it turned a deeper shade of blue than it had been before: “See!” Simmons exclaimed in delight, slipping her goggles off the bridge of her nose as she rounded on him, smile dancing across her lips: “It _is_ possible to create a liquid sound barrier.”

“But only if it turns solid when it comes in contact with air.” Leo pointed out, the relief that he hadn’t been splattered in the face with blue goo again obvious through his Scottish accent. Slipping his own safety goggles off he returned them to his Lab-coat pocket, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to the drawing board fasted to the wall, leaving Jemma to enjoy her well-deserved moment of glee. Picking up a pencil from the table he bit the end of it, contemplating the new design that had been fasten over the last sixteen they’d come up with. The Night-Night gun (once they’d improved the name of it) was hopefully going to be their crowning glory and an important piece of every agents kit once they’d figured out the last few flaws with it, and checked that it worked. One of the things that both scientists agreed on was their complete dislike of killing people when there could be another solution.

Simmons noticed what he was up to over the top of the lab-book she’d grabbed off the desk to scribble her latest discoveries in, almost upsetting David (The 1/12th scale remote controlled Dalek Fitz had taken great delight in modifying in their last year at the Academy that lived on the table most of the time, apart from when he was sent to deliver their lunch order to the cafeteria, or shooting Jemma in the ankle with his tiny laser gun) and George (the monkey plush that had been her joke Christmas present to him after he’d complained about needing a lab monkey to do his work) on the way past. She was on the verge of pointing out the fact that he was biting the end of a pencil that doubled up as a very small Taser when there was a knock on the door.

Both of them froze, somewhere between shocked and surprised at the sound. Nobody ever disturbed them, unless it was the cleaners throwing them out at 11pm or someone delivering a sandwich.

But it was 4pm.

“Fitz!” Jemma hissed as quietly as she could, dropping her book back on the table and giving him a slightly terrified glance: “Answer it!”

“You do it!” He hissed back, as quietly as he could, looking back over at her.

“No! What if its Agent Woo again? I still haven’t finished that accident report!” She replied, stepping up next to him and exchanging another worried look as the knocking came again, louder this time.

“Together?” Leo suggested quickly, and she nodded, stepping closer to the door. Fitz bit his lip, picking up one of the prototype Night-night guns off the table and holding it behind his back, grip tightening on it as he watched Jemma unlock the door, swinging it open to reveal their visit.

Neither of them recognised the Agent that was standing on the other side of it, SHIELD personal files clamped in one hand and what was almost a smile on his lips as he offered a hand to Jemma, completely unphased by the mess the young scientist was in compared to his sharply pressed suit: “Jemma Simmons I presume?”

“Yes Sir.” She nodded, a smile lighting up her english-rose features as she took his hand for a moment, before it was offered to her lab partner, just as he tried to step back enough to return the weapon to a flat surface.

 “And Leopold Fitz?”

“Yes sir…” He replied, nodding slightly and trying not to scowl at the sound of his own name.

“I’m Agent Coulson, and I’m here to tell you you’re being reassigned.”

Both scientists became immediately more interested at his words, Fitz taking the lead as Jemma looked away slightly, a little sheepish as she tried to recall why that name sounded horribly familiar.

“Reassigned?” The Scotsman asked, almost grinning at the thought of it, before his expression faulted slightly: “Is it to another sewer? We did apologise for what happened with the last laboratory.”

“No, It’s a lot further above ground, probably around 32,000 feet.” Coulson replied, adding the others words to the list of curiosities he had about the scientists as he looked around the room, taking in the creativity strewn over the tables and every inch of wall space. Most rooms within any SHIELD base were a regulation level of cleanliness and perfectly ordered, without any expression of emotions.

Jemma looked up just in time to notice his gaze wondering around their science-pit and bit her lip: “Sorry about the mess!” She pointed out, quickly brushing a strand of loose hair off her cheek and brushing it behind her ear; “We are going to clean it up again… it was clean this morning but things happened and…”

Phil couldn’t help but be almost amused by her reaction, these two were the complete opposite to every agent he had spoken to in the past month, still full of life and ideas and not defined by the rules of working for SHIELD. He could understand why Agent Hand had been so against the thought of him hiring them, before Tahiti, they’d been exactly the kind of people that he would have been constantly reprimanding and forcing to write out the rulebook until it became ingrained in their minds.

Which made them perfect for his team.

“The mess is the reason you’re being reassigned,” He explained, watching as the two looked at him in shock, their expressions similar to children being told off in the school-yard: “I’m putting together a new team, and I want both of you to be part of it, your ideas will be needed for your missions, and your team-mates.”

Their expression changed in seconds, exchanging smiles as they looked over at each other in delight. Coulson almost smiled himself as he held out the folders in his hand: “Your reassignment briefs, new ID and first mission details are in here, and I expect a list of required technology for your new laboratory by 12pm tomorrow. Understood?”

“Yes Sir!” They replied in perfect unison, Simmons reaching to take both files as Fitz tried to slip the gun in his hand onto the table behind him without the other Agent noticing. Coulson had of course realised what the scientist was up to and couldn’t help but note the strangely shaped device in his hand, making a mental reminder to find out about it.

Turning on his heel, Phil pretended not to hear the squeals of delight as the laboratory door swung shut behind him, heading back down the dank, lifeless corridor and back into the heart of the underground research facility.


End file.
